


Stale Movie Theater Popcorn

by raven_aorla



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Ableism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter VI just wanted to go see a movie. He hadn't left the manor in more than six months, since the accident, and though the manor was huge and labyrinthine he still wanted to go out into the regular world and among regular people. In the dark of the theater no one would stare, right? If he could get there and back without incident everything would be fine, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stale Movie Theater Popcorn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Psilent (HereThereBeFic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereThereBeFic/gifts).



> Not my characters. Inspired by all the wonderful feels the magnificent "Apple Hearts" fic gave me, though mine does not mention shipping. Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/711669

At least they'd let him put his mask back  _on_ after they finished freaking out over what they saw when they forced it off in the first place. Though the reason for it made him feel worse than ever: there were two other people in the holding cell awaiting bail and he overheard the cops saying something about not wanting to get sued for causing the other petty perps severe mental anguish.

It had been stupid of Peter to go out among the general populace anyway, even at dusk and doing his best to maintain a low profile. He loved the novel  _Cloud Atlas,_ though, and seeing the reviews for the film online and knowing some of his favorite actors were in it was giving him levels of fanboy yearning that had become intolerable. He also wanted a change of scenery. Like some scenery that didn't change of its own accord and often had random portals to other dimensions or sentient furniture, for example. A little normality. He wouldn't really want to live in normality all the time, but it was a nice place to visit, a bit of a break.

He sat on the far end of one of the two long benches in the cell. On the other end was a young woman, college age or so, and on the other bench was a middle-aged man at that stage of drunkenness where he was equally likely to hug strangers as to punch them. At least according to movies and stuff. Peter hadn't really dealt with any drunk people in his life, having switched to homeschooling before reaching the period of high school where kids started that sort of thing and his social circle since then being either automatons who couldn't get drunk or humans who knew better than to face the Manor with anything but their full faculties about them. Oh, and a giant cat.

The woman - wearing the odd combination of fashionable jeans and a saggy gray sweatshirt - gave him a longer look than he really wanted. "So what'd you do?"

Maybe if he gave really terse answers she'd leave him alone. "Disturbed the peace at the Crown Cinema." Until getting to the box office people had stared at him but had left him alone. But it turned out not only did being masked make employees nervous, but he apparently still looked enough like a kid to be carded for films with an R rating, and his polite reasoning that even if they couldn't match his appearance to his ID photo they could check his fingerprints or something didn't help. Things had escalated into security demanding he remove his mask, and when he objected they called the police, and then he started panicking and babbling things that were entirely true but in retrospect probably made him sound like a lunatic. For people not familiar with the chaos that was his home life, anyway.

"Wouldn't show your face?" she asked.

Peter didn't reply. He wished he could have called Mike to come fetch him but Mike was at an old friend's wedding. Because as much as they were close, Michael Reed actually had a life in the greater world, and though Peter couldn't begrudge him that or try to cut him off from it out of spite he could still envy it until it choked him at stray moments when he was alone. Steve was a decent guy and the new musician - Matt - seemed nice and never treated him like a freak to his lack-of-face, but he would really rather stay here than ask them for help with something so humiliating. His biological kin would either make the situation worse or subject him to well-meaning pestering for possibly decades. So he'd left a message on the Walter Wi-Fi voicemail and thought at least they wouldn't think he'd fallen through to Kazooland or something once they actually noticed he was missing. It might take a while but he had done his duty.

He was shocked out of his thoughts when the woman laughed. He involuntarily whipped his head around and her eyes went wide. "Oh, oh, I'm sorry, I'm not making fun of you, I swear. It's just that I'm here for being topless in public with STOP DOUBLE STANDARDS written on my boobs in Sharpie, so basically for refusing to put something on, while you're here for refusing to take something off."

This made Peter relax a little. "I guess I can see the irony."

The drunk man spoke up. "What ya got unner'there anyway? Bit by a bear or something?"

"I don't see how it's your business," Peter snapped. 

The woman smirked but didn't say anything. They sat in silence for a while. The other man fell asleep, which made Peter feel a little less tense, though he realized with chilling horror that he was getting thirsty and if he asked for water he'd have to drink it. In front of people.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been contemplating whether dehydration or alienating a reasonably friendly cellmate was worse when a police officer approached. "Peter Walter?" she asked.

"The Sixth," Peter added in reflex, not missing the previously-topless woman's whistle. He let it go. Plenty of people found the theme-naming yet another weird thing about him.

"You've been posted bail. Your brother Rex is here to take you home."

The name gave Peter VI some suspicions of who it really was, but he was still a little surprised to see The Spine waiting for him, only completely transformed into a near-perfect imitation of a human (some of his movements still had a jerkiness to him that most people would miss), in mussed casual clothing rather than his usual suits. He offered Peter's cane out to him. "Let's go, Peter."

Once they were safely out of the station and heading towards one of the Walter family cars that the Spine wasn't technically legally allowed to drive but sometimes did anyway with the help of some documentation the family had forged when Peter V was young. The Spine could actually drive every commercially available vehicle and several military ones. Since Peter V had been an orphan whose legal guardian was a woman born in 1926 and had difficulty with any vehicle built after World War II - and the only other human adult in the place had been a terrifying-looking mutant - the Spine was actually the best candidate for someone who could drive safely and responsibly until Peter V himself could do so. Rabbit was a surprisingly decent driver if he had to be but he was terrible at faking being human. The Jon, bless his boiler, was not even allowed to be alone in a room with any Walter child under the age of eight even though he never  _meant_ any harm. Hatchworth had never been taught such things and there hadn't been time since his emergence from the vault. 

"It's a good thing I took a cab into the city," Peter VI said as he slipped into the passenger's seat and fastened his seatbelt. No more accidents for him if he could help it. "Does anyone else know?"

The Spine handed Peter a bottle of water and politely looked away while Peter drank it. "I have QWERTY tell me first when we get messages. I thought I would keep things contained unless you told me otherwise. I'm sorry it took as long as it did; the makeup takes me forty-five minutes at top speed."

Peter fiddled with the radio to find the NPR station. He liked their soothing voices, like nothing could ever upset them, and their mellow interviews with various neat people. "I shouldn't have gone out."

"Not necessarily. It was probably unwise to go out alone, though. Maybe if you invited Mr. Reed to go somewhere with you it would be less stressful and you could have an advocate." The Spine paused and added, a little cheekily, "Let's face it, you may be one of the best Walters when it comes to dealing with unexpected zombie bears and Norman coming down with mysterious illnesses, but even when you were a kid you never really grasped the concept of dealing with normal people."

Oddly, that cheered him up. "I suppose. Do you go out alone, sometimes?"

"Sometimes. Not far. What did you come to town for, anyway?"

"Wanted to see a movie."

"Cloud Atlas?"

"How'd you know?"

"You kept leaving your copy all over the place."

In some ways the Spine had been more a parental figure to Peter VI than anyone else. His actual parents were loving but were constantly dealing with Manor-related crises and trying to relaunch the band as both an additional source of income and also so the robots would continue having a purpose. His father had told him a few times about how it felt to have the Spine, the Jon, and Rabbit returned from Vietnam in small boxes of parts and having to reassemble them. Maybe that was why his father thought as long as he knew Peter VI was in one piece, safe, and adequately fed and educated just knowing he was loved would be enough without constantly paying attention to him. His mother tried harder to engage with him but she also had to make sure her husband wasn't overworking himself, blowing himself up, or accidentally creating a rift in space-time that would end all existence as we knew it. This took a lot out of her. Wanda cared about him, sure, but the robots said that she'd hardened a lot after her father and first husband died on the same day - she reserved her fussing for Norman because he needed it and her tenderness for Hatchworth because he'd basically been her nanny and it was like a miracle for her to have him back.  _  
_

Peter sighed. "It's not going to be on DVD for a long time."

"We could preempt the release. Rabbit's very good at pirating."

"No pun intended."

The Spine laughed. "You got me."

"Maybe we could tell Matt that as a hazing ritual he has to secretly film it with a hidden camera and show me the results."

"Rabbit would enjoy convincing him even more than showing off his downloading skills." They stopped at a red light and the Spine turned to look at Peter. "Don't let anyone make you think you deserve less than being treated like a person. No matter what you look like or anything you're missing."

It would have been nice if the Spine could see that Peter was doing what felt like smiling, even if technically he couldn't do that. "Can we stop at a grocery store before getting home? I'd like to have some cherries and whoever has been doing the shopping doesn't seem to realize how to choose the best ones."

"Sure. You do legally own me, you know. You don't really have to ask me for permission like that."

"I only 'own' you because the laws regarding that matter are stupid. One day when the artificial intelligences become supreme and you and the rest are taming giant cockroaches as steeds I hope you will treat any remaining Walters with a similar mindset." 

The Spine grinned. "I promise to give them the thumbs-up if they are forced into single combat for our amusement."

"I'd give you a hug but this is a weird angle."

"You can do that when we get home. If you like we can watch something else and have stale movie theater popcorn with an excess of butter flavoring."

That's what love was like, Peter thought. Just what it was like.


End file.
